


Keep my name close

by thephilosophah



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Magic AU, Multi, not too shippy but anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:57:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6666748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thephilosophah/pseuds/thephilosophah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Jade Harley and you are a witch. Someone dared pass through your forest, and while you're not one for aggression, their sheer arrogance is enough of an annoyance. Oh, but they don't look so well. Kinda cute, but hurt.<br/>Oh, boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep my name close

**Author's Note:**

> And to your left we see yet another example of my impulse to write 8375832 life stories out of getting inspired to write a scene. Literally. I only wanted to write the very first scene of this, why.  
> The ending is rushed as hell, accept it now that you're still ahead and don't expect too much.

You walk through the forest, following your path closely lest you break a spell you’re too tired to remember. The hand holding your bow is getting sweaty.

A tight left turn – unnecessary for anyone looking to navigate through just the trees – has you losing your balance and a bit of your sight, as expected. You wait for the spell to do its job before you continue – ill-advised to move about a bunch of trees with darkened vision when it’s already night.

There’s a clearing a couple dozen feet to your right. You slow down. Many townspeople like the way the moon shines in that clearing, and some are stupid enough to come despite your claim on the forest. Some are stupid enough to come _because_ of your claim on the forest.

You stretch your ears and grab over your shoulder for an arrow.

Hmmmm. No sound, but...

Something stirs and you catch a glimpse of movement too white to be human hair – some animal, then. Probably a bird. You’re not about to go out of your path to find out. You lower your arrow back in the quiver.

“Fucking-!”

Arrow on your bow and muscles tense in a crouch, you leave your path.

“-shit ow ow ow”, you hear. You approach with caution, mindful of your steps so as to avoid making any noise.

“Are you okay?” the very same voice says.

“Well apart from this arm here that seems to have caught on fire, peachy.” Another voice, carefully monotone, deliberately so, even.

“Dave! You need to tell me if something’s wrong!”

“...Ow, my arm?” You guess it’s a question. The voice remains dull, so you can’t tell.

“Let me see.” You’re close enough to take a look between the greenery. There are two people kneeling on the ground, presumably each an owner of a voice. They have similarly short hair that appears silver under the half moon. They’re dressed very odd; while wearing black as any sensible person who moves about at night, they have some painfully vivid highlights all over their attires – one has red, the other, purple.

The one wearing purple accents has raised Red’s sleeve, looking at the discolored skin there. It looks like a horribly bad burn.

A step closer, and you notice they’re sitting on a circle curved with symbols you don’t have time to transcribe. Purple’s head snaps around. You hurry to lower yourself behind a bush (is this barberry? Wow, you never noticed).

“Who’s there?” one of them – you assume Purple – says. You see something shine for a brief moment.

You stay silent.

“I can tell you’re there. Show yourself.”

You move so they can tell where you are, but not look at you.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, pushing your voice low so they can’t tell your gender.

“Should be asking you that”, Red says. Their voices are quite distinct – Red’s is deep and husky while Purple’s is higher and tight – and you find yourself blinking at how nice they sound together.

“I asked first”, you insist.

“I asked ‘who’s there’ before you”, Purple argues. You try not to hiss.

“I live here.”

“...In the forest?”

“Yes. Now who are you and what are you doing in my territory?”

“Your-”, Red’s voice goes strangled. “Possessive much?”

“Humor won’t save your sorry carcass. What are you two doing? Are there any more of you?” You dare a peek over the bush. Red is holding a sword. Their other hand is in the death grip of Purple’s. Their forearm is black and red, and you wince in solidarity.

“Mind your manners”, Purple snaps. You laugh right in their faces.

“Oh please, as if you can do anything.” A dare, and you stand a little straighter for emphasis.

“Sure I can. There’s two of us and only one of you.”

Dammit you can’t tell if that was a bluff or what. They both hold their faces neutral.

“Two isn’t nearly enough.” You stand completely straight, bow and arrow ready and in plain sight. Red tilts their blade.

“Maybe two laics are not”, Purple says. You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, you poor creature, you have no idea, have you?”

“Am I supposed to be insulted by your patronizing?”

Red choke-snorts. Purple spares a glance sideways. You spare one downwards (hold on, you know this circle. They’re fooled if they think they can operate it.)

“Listen here, person who is clearly not a laic, there’s only two of you and one is hurt. Even if you could both fight, neither would be able to keep all their concentration on me.”

“We _can_ both fight”, Red says, “we can _both_ kill you individually. Hurt and dying, it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh? Then why haven’t you already?” This is an actual question. You’re curious.

They both look down.

Oh right. They failed a circle. They must be scared to attempt sudden moves _(one of them is hurt)._

“You’re idiots if you thought this would have worked tonight”, you say and take a step towards them. Purple lets go of Red’s hand.

“This is a quarter spell. It works.”

“Yeah right, how’s your friend’s arm there?”

Purple stands up, Red pulls their sleeve down ( _they hiss at the contact_ ).

“This is _a quarter spell_ ”, Purple insists. _Oh get over yourself._

“This is a _last_ quarter spell. It’s first tonight.”

“It should work”, Purple spits between clenched teeth. The circle speaks. Red whips their head around.

“Don’t!” you shout, take two strides and almost relax your hold on your weapon. You stand a step from the circle.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Eyes narrowed, fists clenched and mouth barely moving.

You glance down,

Eyes wide, one hand holding a sword, one dripping with blood and mouth hanging open.

“Please”, you hiss, “That arm’ll come right off.”

You engage a staredown with Purple. An opia comes over you. Red leaves the circle.

You step right on the edge of the circle and will it to silence _(it is not your time, the moon rejects you, be still, be silent)._

“Are you a witch?” Purple growls.

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yes.”

You turn to Red, arrow still ready for Purple.

“I’m not.”

“As gender or status?”

“Both”, Red replies, and proceeds to choke on the next word. “Can you really afford to look away from her?”

“While you’re holding a weapon and she’s trapped in a circle she can’t work without hurting herself? Yes.”

“What do you want of us?” Purple demands.

“What are you doing in my forest?”

“Failing at magic, apparently.”

“Why are you so dead-set on this circle, even though it’s already hurt one of you?”

“He can _handle_ it.” Her eyes drift sideways in doubt. They’re the same intense purple that decorates her clothes.

“Why risk it?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t. I want to know if there’s anyone else I should be expecting.”

“...There isn’t.”

The circle messes the energy. You can’t tell if she’s lying or not. You aim at her.

“Are there any more people that you know of coming in this forest?” You stare at Red.

“No.” he says. Purple raises her hands. You see movement in the corner of your eye and turn to aim at Red before he gets close enough to be a real threat. You’re almost surprised at the relief coming off of him (almost).

“How are you connected?”

“We’re siblings. Twins.”

Your head whips around to stare at Purple. “Who the fuck brings their twin in a moon circle without total certainty over the time?”

Red moves and you turn to him.

“I assure you, I was completely certain of the spell’s functionality at this night, and was most determined to act by myself.”

“Like I’d let you”, Red murmurs. You get the sense you shouldn’t have heard that.

“...I don’t want to harm either of you”, you begin.

“Neither do we, you”, Purple says. _Diplomatic_ , Red thinks loud enough for his sister, but oh, he can’t do magic, you hear it too.

“Good. How about we both stop aiming for each other’s throats?”

Red angles his body away, sword still raised, before you point your arrow down. He relaxes, lowers his weapon. Nods. You nod back.

“Are you hurt?” you ask Purple.

“No.”

“Alright. I will take you to the path and see about your arm.” You gesture at Red with your head. “What is your name?”

He pinches his lips shut. You take your foot off the circle. Purple walks out of it and to her brother’s side.

“Surely you can’t expect him to answer?”

“Dave”, you say, because she had said it earlier, “Tell me it.”

You think of a blizzard and snow puffing out fire, light burning through metal, flesh decomposing and a burning arm dropping into lava.

“Knight Dave Strider”, he says and for the first time you hear emotion. It sounds like infinite deaths endured by the same person.

Purple stares at him wide-eyed, and the moment you let go of the spell, he mirrors her.

“Now, witch, if you would tell me yours”, you bluff.

“...Seer Rose Lalonde”, she says while glaring daggers right through your skull. It sounds like the dew of a new moon night struggling to shove a deep sea beast inside a clenched fist.

“Follow me”, you motion.

“What is _your_ name?” Rose says.

“Jade.”

Before they can protest, you leap into the path and drag them along. You work out the dizziness and dark spots and ringing ears before they do (of course, it’s _your_ spell, you know it’s there, it’s milder on you.)

Rose works around it, bright and shining, forcing the grim away. Apparently the twist she can live with. She gives you a confused but accusing glare.

Dave topples right the fuck over. You catch him (by the bad arm ow) and pull him up straight.

“Sorry”, you say, “I put it up to keep people out. Can you stand? Walk? Dave?”

He looks at you at complete loss. Rose cups his head with both her hands and touches their foreheads. You see a spark of light fly from her eyes to his.

“...Hhhhholy gods _fucking_ \---!” goes Dave, and doubles over his arm.

“Sorry”, you repeat, and begin down the path. “Follow my footing.”

There are grunts and coughs and badly covered chokes behind you as you walk them to your house and present them your back for the most convenient stabbing (they can’t, not when you have their names).

You reach your house and lift the banishing spell around it for them to approach.

You walk in, “Neither of you is invited.”

Rose fails to catch herself in time and Dave drags her back by the shoulder. You pretend not to notice.

You walk back out with some ointment and bandages, offer them to the twins.

“No healing potion?” Rose asks with an eyebrow raised, accepting the things.

“Do I look like a healer to you?” you move your arms about.

You sit down just past the threshold. They give you near-identical dumbfounded looks and then sit down (inside the banishing circle, outside the house). Dave stares. You let your bow and quiver rest by the side of the door and keep your hands intertwined and visible. He hesitates, but lets go of his sword.

Rose turns the ointment around in her fingers and waits for Dave to unstick the fabric off of his skin.

He’s not doing that. Why is he not doing that?

“Witch”, he says (not choking in the least, nope), “You say you’re not a healer.”

“I’m not.”

“Do you mean a Sylph?”

“Yes”, you raise an eyebrow. “I cannot and will not cause any harm by simply seeing a wound. Just hurry up and don’t bleed in my garden.”

Dave yanks his sleeve up with a hiss and Rose hurries to clean and bandage his wound. Such a large area it covers, too.

You grab some rosemary, wrap a bit of black thread around it, and go patch the hole you opened in your spell for the twins to pass through. You leave it there on the ground after you’re done. You sit back where you were, just barely in your house, while the twins observe you.

“So, Knight”, you begin, “is that a legal title, earned, stolen?”

“Earned. Uh, legal, until recently-” Rose does a quick gesture in front of Dave and he snaps his mouth shut.

“Let him speak.”

“Nah, she knows better than to”, Dave nods.

“He really does enjoy the sound of his own voice”, she teases.

“Not blaming him in the least”, you arch an eyebrow.

“Oh come on Rose, like you have any room to-” Dave does a double take at you. “Did you just?”

“I did.”

They stare at each other for a long time. You’re not much of an empath, but they’re thinking so loudly you don’t have to be. They want to trade.

“Okay, so”, you bring their attention to you, “I set up a spell that’ll last ‘till morning, as I usually do to keep the unwanted out. I’m not sure you can pass through right now, but you can leave in the morning. Perhaps. Do you want to sleep under a roof tonight?”

“Yes”, they chorus. Aw, cute. Also creepy. Wow.

“How can you earn your stay?”

“You tell us”, Dave says. He bunches up both his sleeves above the elbow.

You ponder.

“There’s a spell I need help to execute. If you help me, Seer, you can earn your stay.”

“I will help you with your spell.”

“And Dave... Fuck, I don’t know. Can you cook or something?”

“Better not.”

“Ugh, fine. Hmm... Ah, you can tidy some things around. Don’t worry, very few of my things are affected by relative location. Just make sure we can see the floor and you can earn your stay.”

“I will uncover your floor”, he says. His mouth does a weird thing. Maybe it’s supposed to be a smirk, but it’s such a sorry excuse of one right now that you’re having trouble reading as an expression at all.

“I invite you both in my house. Earn your stay.”

They do. Rose does most of the work for the potion part of the spell that needs far too much insight for you to grasp, but she handles it smoothly. Dave bunches up your stuff in corners, at first, and then makes piles based on use. Bec keeps sniffing at him.

They’re in the middle of a staredown when you walk in on them. Dave has a string of garlic in his hand. Bec has a string of garlic floating somewhere behind his head. You walk out lest they hear your laughter.

In another room, you find Rose reading a blank book. You pout, thinking the painfully long and complicated (and precise, damn, is it fragile) spell you have to set up every time you want to so much as glance at the words hidden there. They’re a weird language, too. And here Rose is, having no trouble whatsoever at reading it.

Damn it. _Seers._

“Whacha reading?” you plant your palm on the table, fake-casual written so obvious on you that she gives you an unimpressed look.

“It’s about midsummer divination on Void and Doom, with a few notes for similarities on Rage and Time. There are several tricks for reversing to Light, Life or Space.”

Holy shit. How can you not have known.

“Translate for me?”

“Does my answer matter?” she arches an eyebrow.

“Of course it does! If you don’t want to, then there’s no guarantee that you won’t lie if I make you. You’re a witch, you can mess with my spells, and truthtelling isn’t really my forte.”

It occurs to you that she could be trying to pinpoint your title, if only to drag your last name out of you. Both siblings might be.

“I’d love to translate, in exchange for my brother’s and my safety.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t want to hurt either of you”, you admit. “You haven’t really done anything against me. Except for bleeding in my forest, but that’s not too bad.”

“Please let me take the blame for that. I was assured the circle would’ve worked.”

“You mean you can read blank pages but you can’t tell when the moon will accept a spell?”

Her lips pinch tight. You break eye contact first (but only for a second!)

“Who gave you the pattern?”

“It was a... hm, Void guy. I’m not sure. I couldn’t tell.”

“I didn’t know Void could mess up a Seer.”

“Void can mess up everything”, she says, spitting the aspect like a name and not an idea. It sounds like echo in a cave and makes a chill run down your arms.

You _know_ Void doesn’t mess up everything. Confirmed, tested and true story. It messes up with your things because it’s your reverse, but it shouldn’t mess with a Seer unless intentional, or...

...or...

...Rose doesn’t ping you as Space.

“Seer of Light.”

Rose’s fists clench on the corners of her book.

Her name is a waterfall reflecting the sun in distorted rainbows and gentle rain drip dropping on an array of flowers. The bed made of lilacs hides the knowledge of the entire world, you just have to pluck a few and take a look.

For a moment the image of a dead field empty of flowers passes your mind and you wonder who would destroy their own sense of self in order to attain knowledge.

You don’t say her full name.

“...Yes?” she says after a few seconds of silence.

“Translate for me. Write it down, word for word, and you will have earned my hospitality for you and your brother alike.”

Speak of the devil, he pokes his head in the room.

“...Sis?”

“She has it”, Rose says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Nothing we can do now.”

Dave glares at you.

“Witch, come tame your beast. It keeps messing up my shit.”

You follow him to where Bec was last time you saw him and gesture at the empty space left behind.

“Okay”, he begins, “I don’t know what you did, but there’s no way Rose just gave away her full name like that. So you gotta tell me what I can do to keep you the fuck away from her.”

“That’s big talk from someone trying to get in my favor. I thought beggars can’t be choosers.” You cross your arms.

“Not really, but fuck that noise. Just, fuck, what are you missing from this lovely house of yours here? _Give me something meaningful to do, witch, damn it.”_

You think his thoughts might have slipped there, because sounded suspiciously like a clear night’s stars blocked by fire too bright to let them shine through. Your teeth grit against your will.

He blinks.

“...Witch?”

The fire quiets and lets a star fall.

“Witch Jade.”

Snow falling in silence on a forest.

“Oh, damn, Witch Jade? I think I can deal. Half a name’s not that bad.”

“Silence, Knight. I still have more of yours than you do of mine.”

“Yes, but”, he lets a slow, cocky smirk spread on his face and wow, does an expression make him look different, “have you ever cursed anyone using their name?”

“Many times.”

“Was it permanent?”

Oh, he’s amused now.

“I can’t control the duration of a curse on something as personal as a name”, you hiss.

Oh fuck. They’re trying to guess at your aspect. Which ones have you denied this far?

(Light and Blood and Rage and Void before, and Time just now.) (Rose must be suspecting every aspect mentioned in that book.)

...Wait.

“Can you?”

He smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He turns and leaves before you can start throwing aspects at his class. Something hot makes its way up and down your spine twice. It’s heated metal at first, and then radiant light.

(It’s what they know of your name uttered from each of them.)

“Alright that’s enough”, you say in one breath as you walk in the room. “Dave, Bec left, so go back to doing your thing.” Instead of lacing the command with his name, you let a ‘before I kick you out’ hang in the air.

“Fair enough.”

You peek at what Rose has started writing. It’s not in your favorite language, but it’s one you’re fluid in.

“Are there any foods you guys don’t eat?”

“Bird meat”, Dave shouts from the next room over.

“I’ll eat just about anything I can swallow without endangering my health”, Rose adds.

You fry some rabbit meat. The three of you eat outside and by the time you’re done it’s about halfway into your normal sleeping time. Shame.

You set up a pile of blankets for them to sleep in at the wall opposite your bed (there’s enough space there thanks to Dave’s tidying). They don’t seem to mind sharing.

You know nobody sleeps. Nobody bothered removing more than the topmost layer of clothes anyway. You count stars and Rose recites songs and Dave counts seconds and they think their time wasters so quietly you tune them out before the twelfth star.

You sit up at the first break of dawn, for lack of anything better to do.

(You’re so fucking tired.)

You grab a basket of fruit from somewhere in the kitchen and sit outside. You’re nibbling on your second plum when Dave comes to take a seat next to you.

He grabs an apple. There’s silence until he finishes it.

“So that was a lot of time we wasted all night”, he drawls.

“Did you have something better in mind?”

He gives you a look that makes you reconsider how much of a pickup line that was. Too late to go for an actual flirty delivery though.

“Look, apparently none of us is willing to be unconscious at the other’s presence, but I thought you guys would’ve taken shifts so you could at least rest a bit.”

“Pshhyeah. I’m not gonna let her be unconscious in a stranger’s house, and I sure as hell ain’t gonna get death’s free trial under a archer witch’s roof.” He leans back on his hand, the other one going for another apple. You notice he’s squinting. It’s different than your own ‘fuck the world is blurry’ glassless squint. Maybe the rising sun’s bothering him.

“Death’s free trial?”

“Yeah, you know. Sleep is like dying but without the commitment. And that’s all kinds of a horrible idea in a house I’m trapped in. Plus hey, can’t really sleep through the pain.”

...He’s using his bad arm to support himself like an idiot.

“You’re gonna make it bleed again.”

“You got something against Blood?” The image of red drops splashing on black earth is laced in his words.

“You both have way too weak attempts at guessing my aspect.”

“What the hell does a Witch of Blood even do?” There’s no echo feeling in that title, because he tied it to you and it’s not yours and that’s about the best way to cancel it out. “Manipulate relationships? Oh shit, that’d be- wow. No.”

“Have you thought manipulating society? Or literal, physical blood?” You smirk. “While it’s still in the body, make you dance like a puppet, kill yourself on a whim. Break skin by sheer pressure, make you bleed your insides out, drag the blood out of you. Freeze it in your heart, have it clenching, pushing for survival, ha, no, it’s but flesh and muscle, when it comes down to it, blood’s more important than a pumper.”

Dave has scooted a full five feet away and looks ready to run for his fucking life. You don’t really blame him.

“Sorry”, you sigh. “It’s a Witch thing. When you have an entire concept at your disposal to be manipulated as you damn well please, it’s not long before things get destructive.”

He doesn’t respond.

“...Go tell your sister there’s breakfast here, okay? I’ll go see how the spell’s going.”

You walk to the mental circle that marks the banishing spell and go right over it, because usually you can see the house from outside in the morning, when the spell disables itself. Your foot catches on something over the line and you faceplant right into the wall that separates the world from you like a fucking chump.

“...Ow.”

You turn around to find Dave pinching his lips in a failed attempt to hide his amusement. You poke your tongue out. (He looks so white.)

You palm at where you guess the spell is. It feels smooth and solid and that’s never happened before.

You’d set this spell up, against outsiders, blocking out to in. Why the actual, literal fuck would it keep _you inside?_

“Dave, lend me your hand?”

“Which one?”

“Either, something’s up with my spell.”

“Whatcha mean?” he says as he reaches his arm out (the bad one, you note). It flinches back. His fingertips are red.

“What the hell?”

“Is it Burn Dave Weekend? Tell me it’s Burn Dave Weekend and I was just not informed. That would explain a lot.”

“Sorry, I –the fuck?- I don’t understand. It doesn’t work like that! This has never happened before.”

Rose’s silverwhite head pokes out of the door.

“Is that my brother’s pain I smell?”

“That is true my friend”, he says, looking his hand over.

“Sorry. Rose, come take a look. The spell’s doing something weird.”

“Weird like what?” she asks, the way a Seer of Light would ask.

“It’s rejecting me! Won’t let me pass through, hurts Dave. Can you touch it?”

She takes a close look at what you see as absolutely nothing.

“...No, it’ll burn me. Dave, your hand?”

He lets her see, but yanks it back when she tries to touch it.

“Hey, sis, there’s breakfast right over there, go nuts.” He turns to you, “Got any more of that thing?”

“Sure, uh... yeah? Yeah. Come in.”

Rose picks an apple and goes to sit by the circle. She folds her legs something fancy under her. (why is her hair so light)

Dave follows you inside and you toss the ointment at him. He catches it with his good hand.

“Sh, witch, help the one-handed out?” He waves it around. You roll your eyes and open it for him, let him scoop up a bit, and then you close it again.

“Sorry for that, though. I don’t get what’s wrong. It’s the exact same spell I do every time.”

“Maybe we messed it up? We did fail a circle like it was our life’s mission back there.”

“No, I don’t think... my uh, my brother comes around all the time and he fails a lot of circles. It shouldn’t have mattered”, you mutter.

“You have a brother?” He raises his eyebrows. You notice he’s still squinting.

_Why is he so goddamn white he’s not even pale-white he’s white as paper all the way up to his hair and it’s so fucking jarring against his black clothes and the bright bright red accents are not helping in the slightest-_

“Yeah, half-brother. He’s a doofus.”

“Hah, ‘d love to meet him. Gotta warn you, though, Imma hit on him if he’s half as pretty as you.” And that would’ve been smooth as a dream if Dave weren’t wiggling his eyebrows like an idiot. You shove his face away and he goes laughing.

“Oh please, I’m way prettier. Even if I weren’t, he’s not nearly as interesting and unique an individual as yours truly.”

“Truly?” he’s still smiling.

“Nah”, you shove him again, and this time you laugh with him.

He stops squinting long enough for you to notice his eyes are red. You would’ve thought highlighting their clothes based on eye color was ridiculous if you weren’t guilty of it yourself. At least you’re sensible enough to have green as your main color on most clothes.

Rose brings the basket inside and gives Dave a pointed look.

“Do you have any idea what I’m seeing right now, brother dearest?”

“Yes, also shut up.”

Rose, of course, smiles slowly and toothlessly at him.

“And what do you suppose that would be?”

“Did you not hear me saying shut up.”

“I did, but I believe your current thoughts would make for an interesting conversation piece right now.” She turns to you, cupping a hand on the side of her mouth, which does nothing to hide her voice when she keeps speaking at the exact same volume. “He’s thinking of something really inappropriate.”

“It’s not that inappropriate.”

“I’m afraid it is, brother.”

“Okay”, you interrupt, “you guys have ten seconds to either tell me or drop it, and then I’m guessing. You don’t want me to guess.”

“Don’t we?” Rose wonders.

“It’d be hilarious, but alas.” Dave says. He stares right at you. “Ever had anyone go down on you?”

“Once, but I fell asleep halfway through.”

Rose cracks right the fuck up. Dave has the dignity to cover his mouth.

“Have _you_ ever had anyone go down on you?” you say, standing but a step away from Dave.

“Nah”, he responds between his laughter. He’s beginning to flush, though you can’t guess if it’s due to his breathlessness or the topic. (at least there’s color on his face)

Rose clears her throat. “I believe I know what’s wrong with the spell.”

She hasn’t quite managed to rid herself of her smile.

“What is?”

“I’m afraid I may have tampered with it when you casted it. Hear me, I didn’t want to be stuck in a stranger’s house along with my brother, much less when I had already hurt him a few minutes earlier.”

You only stare. There’s no smiles left. She clears her throat again before she continues.

“I’m not capable of diffusing the spell without making the damage permanent at this time. To my understanding, it should wear off on the next first quarter. I might be able to modify it, though. It should let us pass through.”

“You can’t modify it”, you say.

“Surely I can; all spells can be modified under the right circumstances.”

“Not this one.” You cover your mouth with a hand. “This one isn’t like that. That’s not how it works. It’s time-based, it deactivates itself. It can’t be modified, unless its caster dies.”

Fuck. Shouldn’t have said that.

“...Time?” Dave says, and it sounds like heat and clockwork. Your eyes widen.

“Knight of Time Dave Strider and Seer of Light Rose Lalonde, have a seat.”

They immediately obey. Their joined full names and titles are a green star seen from close enough to be considered a sun, seen from close enough to be seen from the inside out.

_(you ignore the black rain that cascades on scorching lava and the waterfall that falls out from gears big as your mind’s eye can make them)_

Rose hisses in an attempt to say your name.

“Silence!” Her lips snap closed.

_(you see a girl hidden in dark corners behind books and a young woman spitting darkness at the very notion of light you see a boy wielding a sword twice his size and a young man wielding a sword broken in half because when there’s lives at stake he will give no shit for the state of his weapon you see a young man giving time the middle finger so he can fight with his half-sword and he’s fighting with you right by your side and you kill him you kill him and you see a young man’s still-warm body at your feet covered in blood and there’s blood in his mouth and it ends up in yours)_

You wipe your lips with the back of your hand. When you look, there’s a red smear.

You turn to Dave, with his white hair and blank skin and painfully contrasting red eyes, the corner of his mouth is dripping red.

“Open your mouth”, you say as you take a step closer.

He opens his mouth and coughs and coughs and coughs, a wet sound that brings his hands to his face and crimson running between his fingers.

_(you killed him but you brought him back but you didn’t know it worked until someone had taken his place for so long there was no original and no copy)_

“Stop it!” Rose pleads.

_(you see a man flying without using the wings you know he has and he can’t age but you can and you care for him too much to watch as you leave him behind but he finds a way to fix his wing and he no longer bleeds from the second sword wound through his torso)_

Dave breathes the breath of the nearly-drowned. One of his hands flies to his shoulder – reaching for his back.

(There are no wings there. Not anymore.)

You sit at the table, opposite Dave, and release the spell. He slams his hands on the table and all but jumps out the window. Through the door he left open, you see him sitting down as far away as he can without burning himself on the circle.

You’re thankful that Rose isn’t a Witch or a Bard of Light because she nearly takes the ‘if’ out of ‘if looks could kill’. And you’re the one whose sorry carcass will be found at the bottom of a lake.

“Witch of Space”, she spits. The snow falls silent and the volcano stands inactive before the young man. He brings his sword and the snow melts, the volcano erupts. Everything is green and two points at the top of your head are scratchy and you don’t give a shit and a half, because the only thing that’s important is that She gets what She wants. It makes sense, She’s on the top of everything except for one thing, and that one thing bothers Her as much as it bothers you, it ruins Her perfect lineup and you must do whatever you can to get Her what She wants, you must, you must.

Fingers snap and you’re dead.

You try to inhale, try to scream but you’re crushed under who knows how many – _too many_ – tons of structure.

“Jade.”

You look at your hands and there are colorful markings that remind you of things that you forget immediately.

Dave screams from outside. It lasts so long you regret not counting from the start. What you do count is a solid ten seconds. You dare a glance away from Rose. Dave is slouched on the ground, fists clenched tight in his hair and black clothes stretching behind him. His coat and one of his belts are discarded a few feet to his left.

Something crawls up your back from your stomach to your shoulderblade. You turn to find Rose sitting perfectly passive as the needle point makes its way over your collarbones and down the other side of your back.

“I’m sorry”, you say. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know how to stop.”

“Lies.” The ghost needle presses into your spine before continuing to dance across your back.

“Truth. I- I saw myself in his name. That has only ever happened to relatives, but never to this extent, severity or harm. I didn’t know how to stop.”

She forces her way through the thoughts you pass out. Jake’s eyes parade on the forefront of your mind, just a bit darker than yours, empty of magic and never having glowed the way yours do.

“Who is that?” Rose asks, and you force yourself to think of Bec running wild and yourself tiring to run after him because thinking of the answer when a Seeker of Knowledge is using your name to get in your mind is as wise as handing out your intestines.

“Relative? Sibling, cousin, parent?”

You steer away from his eyes and towards hers. You think of an empty field of lilacs, grey and void of color and this time she’s standing in the middle, surrounded by black fire that looks alive and that’s not fire, is it?

“No, it’s not”, she growls in a language you don’t understand. You get the meaning straight from her mind. Her eyes narrow and she flashes you an image of what she’s looking at right now: you. Your skin is grey and your clothes are black and your eyes light up the entire room, dark as it is and buried in black fire.

You blink, take a deep breath. You look down at yourself. You still have color and the room is bright with the now-risen sun. Your eyes feel warm.

A young man holding half a sword dies at your hands and wakes in hers. Together they die and wake inside the Green Sun.

Dave stands just outside the door.

“Sis. Come outside. The sun is lovely.” He says it in a mocking tone.

“Of course”, she responds, and finally breaks eye contact. You let out a long breath.

By the time the sun sets you discover three things; Bec can walk in or out of the circle just fine; Dave squints at any lighting brighter than a waxing moon; both of Rose’s arms and all her fingers develop spell burns.

You read the thing Rose translated for you. It’s maybe twelve, thirteen pages. It’s the first two chapters on Void. And it’s... well, it’s nothing you didn’t know already. Basic analysis and precautions to take when messing with aspects, the usual stuff that you always skip in every book.

Well, you might as well give up on her translation. She wouldn’t do it _now_ , in any case. You look for some of the notes you have taken on the book when you hear someone coughing outside.

And coughing again, more wetly. Solidly.

One of the twins is throwing up.

You resist the urge to run out and give them something to help when you quiet down enough to hear Dave murmuring reassurances.

You dive in a pile of junk and fish out a health charm. You teleport it outside.

The coughing fades out, eventually.

You make soup.

“Due to some really fucking fishy circumstances, I’m made to admit we might be starving on your garden a bit.” Dave is leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and his brows low enough to alter the shape of his eyes. “That might also be enhanced by the emptying of my sister’s stomach. You wouldn’t know about that, would you?”

“I have soup.”

“Funny, if you think about it. I mean, what could possibly cause such physical dysphoria, am I right?” You pass him the entire pot of soup. “Wouldn’t want that happening to anyone else, would we?”

You turn away and clench your fists. “I’m sorry, Dave.”

“Cause being sorry has always helped, witch.”

It doesn’t resonate like a title, but it comes with an imprint of his image of you, and you fail to shove away the sharp teeth and green glowing on black.

He’s gone when you turn around.

You set a spell to only let you fall asleep if both of the twins are unconscious and bind it to your forehead. Bec cuddles up to you in your bed. You bury your face in his fur and concentrate on his breathing to calm down.

Fucking damn everything, why did you have to make them earn their stay, now your acceptance or dismissal of their work can hurt them. (They can’t leave _they can’t leave_ ).

You run your fingers over your familiar’s hide.

Goddammit.

You wake up with the sunrise, which is a surprise. Firstly because you severely doubted you’d sleep and secondly because the sun doesn’t peek in your room until a good couple of hours after sunrise.

Then you remember that the twins probably have the sun in their faces and your confusion clears.

Bec is gone somewhere, so you take the chance to change the clothes you have been wearing for three days straight.

You find Dave leaning in through a window and reaching for some bread that’s been in your kitchen for who knows how long. On second thought, Dave might know.

He’s covered in sweat and looks in pain. He’s leaning way too far, Rose must be holding his legs or something. He’s down to a single shirt without any sleeves and his wound from the circle failure is open.

He has more scars than you have time to count before he notices you.

You land the bread in his still-reaching hand and grab his center of balance to keep him from falling on his face. You’re standing at opposite sides of the room but he’s giving you such an intense glare that you feel his heat and gears radiating on every exposed inch of your skin.

You teleport a bottle of water near his free hand and let it hover there until he takes it. You gently push his center of gravity back to make him stand up straight outside the window.

You make two potions, both to be consumed; one is for wounds and the other is for nausea.

Dave throws up outside. You can tell it’s him because Rose yelps in surprise and proceeds to hum a spell or another to help.

You teleport the nausea potion outside and give them a half-hour before you walk out with the wound potion in hand.

They’ve both stripped down a lot. Sleeveless shirt and pants for Dave, short dress and long underskirt for Rose. They both give you the stink eye. They both look sleep-deprived and sick. (you have both their names)

“I’m sorry. Really, I am. I’m not asking for your forgiveness but I do hope you will accept my attempts to make it up. Even if they fail. You don’t have to”, you say all the while staring at the flask in your hands. “I’m sorry.”

Rose turns her body a bit, just so she won’t have to twist her neck too far to look at you.

“This should help with the bleeding”, you offer up the potion. When neither moves to take it, you pull your arms back and let it hover towards them.

“What makes this one different than all the others you have passed us?” Rose asks with a voice dry and patchy. “Why come out when you could’ve simply teleported it like the rest?”

You steal a glance and she’s taken the flask. You sigh and smile.

“I honestly, truly don’t want to hurt you. And I have, I am hurting you. I want it to stop, but I’ve messed up bad. I can’t get it to stop without your cooperation.”

Rose nods. She takes the cap off of the potion and swishes it around in its container as she stares at it. Dave keeps his eyes on you until his sister passes him the medicine. He downs a good one forth of it in one go. He gives it back to Rose, who takes a generous gulp before putting the cap back on.

They look at each other, and this time they at least have the sense to think quietly.

“We’d also like to not be constantly throwing up and re-opening wounds until the next first moon. Not to mention sleeping in shifts in a garden.”

“Alright! Okay, that’s good. I don’t expect you to trust me, by the way. I couldn’t ask you to. Dave?”

He somehow manages to blink aggressively without really forcing any of his face muscles to do anything other than actually let him blink. It’s a very weird blink. You take it as acknowledgement.

“Are you not talking to me because you can’t, or are you just that mad at me?” You try to keep from pouting.

“The second one”, Rose says.

“Okay. Okay, that’s fair. You have every right to. I couldn’t make you talk to me if you don’t want to, anyway.”

Dave laughs. It sounds like a young man holding a half-sword over his own sleeping form’s throat.

Rose pinches her lips and a needlepoint pokes you at the top of the spine and right behind the left lung before dissipating. You breathe.

“Okay, here’s what’s up: you two need to get healthier so I can actually invite you in without any deals. Let’s hope we’ll be done with that by night. My cousin’s coming over in the afternoon so be nice to him, okay?”

Rose flashes you Jake’s eyes. You flash her John’s, long enough to tell her she’s wrong, but not long enough for her to know who he actually is.

“Very well”, she says.

So you go back inside and make lunch, which you share with them. You bring them more water.

You’re reading a book when you hear the wind swoosh and John announcing his existence. You find the twins standing up when you walk out.

“Was that...?”

“I think it was.”

“But he couldn’t- wait fuck he could-”

You walk past them to as far as the circle will let you. John appears over the trees and lands in front of you in a smooth curve.

“Hey Jade! Long time no see, huh?”

“It’s just been a week, calm down.” You pull him in an overenthusiastic hug nonetheless.

“Is that-?” he begins.

“Fuck . Fuck it, fuck everything, this cannot be happening”, Dave says.

You pull back to look at them. “Do you guys know each other?”

“She’s your _cousin_?!” Dave points a finger at you.

“Yes? What’s wrong?” John says, walking closer to the twins. You follow.

“Your cousin is a Witch of Space”, Dave insists (the forge lights up and the frog hunting begins). “ _The_ Witch of Space. Dude, what the ever loving fuck?” (frost and frogs, snow and jungles)

“The?” you ask.

“I didn’t know you knew each other!” John argues.

“We didn’t. You are aware how much she is damn near perfectly opposite of us?” Rose says.

You... can’t believe that had slipped your mind. Damn.

“Well sorry if I don’t spend my time thinking up what aspects compliment yours!”

“Everyone shut up!” you say. Space shakes around you a little, and that forces them to listen. “How do you guys know each other?”

“We’re good friends”, John answers. “You should try socializing sometime.”

“Do you know their names and titles?”

“Yes.”

“Do they know yours?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Wow, okay. Help me with this. Invite them in with me.”

So he does when you do, and Rose and Dave take a unified breath that makes you wonder if they breathed at all during that one day you had them banished between your house’s walls and the spell they can’t pass through.

You all sit at a table and explain the situation to John. Helpful cousin that he is, he shrugs and gives you a smile that is probably meant to ease the disappointment. It doesn’t.

He stays the night and shares stories with your guests and as you watch them interact you doubt that Dave was kidding when he said he’d hit on your brother.

You all sleep that night, thankfully.

You wake up thrown off your bed by the collective efforts of John and Bec, so you wake them up by breaking Space near their heads.

Bec twitches and blinks away. John jumps to the ceiling and stays there. You laugh in his face.

The twins are still asleep on the floor when you take a look, which comes as a great surprise. You teleport John and yourself to the kitchen, and send him off to gather some herbs. The forest is nice for this stuff, but John is, unsurprisingly, absolute fucking shit with plants.  You don’t get your hopes up.

You spend most of the morning outside, because John keeps coming back to check with you if that’s the right herb, and how much did you say you wanted of this?

You rub your temples. He takes off yet again. Something tugs at your skirt.

Rose is kneeling behind you.

“Jade, listen.”

“I know, I know, you probably wanted me to wake you up as soon as I woke up myself, I just-”

“No, that’s not it.”

“...What is it, then?”

She looks at the ground, her lips between her teeth. You doubt that’s lipstick. A glamour, perhaps.

“We’ve been looking for an opposite to us”, she says. “And a Witch of Space-” (snow, rain) “-is perfect. You’re perfect.”

“What’d you look for me for?”

“The circle we failed. It was- we were supposed to come out of it better. Healed instead of injured.”

“Healed of what?”

You turn at her fully, now, and help her to her feet.

“We don’t know”, she says, out of breath like standing hurts her. “It’s not so physical for me as it is for Dave, but we know we’ve been cursed in the opposite in some way.”

“You’re a Seer of Light. There’s no way you can’t know.”

“I can only Know what I could learn. This... this is too much, the curse is- please. No Sylph can help. It was a Sylph that cursed us. He needs his complementary Space, and I need the opposite to my opposite Void. I beg of you, help us.”

You gather her in your arms and begin moving towards the house. “I will. I promise you, I’ll do whatever is within my power to nurse you to health.”

“Thank you, Jade”, she pants. Her head dips on your shoulder. “I’ll put my trust to you.”

“...My last name is Harley.”


End file.
